What do you have
by itwontlast
Summary: They don't have much. Maybe they don't have anything at all. So what do they have? And who has them?


Stiles was confused. He wasn't confused very often but at this moment he was absolutely dumbfounded

Derek, meanwhile, was resigned. A written letter in an unmarked envelope only ever means one thing. He could smell Braeden on the envelope and wasn't really surprised at the contents. She thanked him for the fling and informed him that she had refunded his money due to her failure in hunting Kate Argent down.

And that's how they found each other. Well Stiles found him really. Derek sitting at the bottom of the spiral staircase staring at the envelope in his hand. Stile came in clutching a fucking post-it note. The exact words he used in his text to Lydia.

So neither of them said a thing and just exchanged their notes. Derek let out a snort at Malia's barely hidden disgust towards the pack. Stiles smirks at Braeden's brisk tone. "I hope the sex wasn't as simple as this letter" Stiles snarked. "I hope she's lying when she says that your dick is as small as your backbone" Derek threw back. Stiles laughed and Derek let out a small grin.

"Wanna find out?" Stiles asks with an impish grin on his face.

And Derek, well Derek just laughs. Because the scars are too fresh. And her perfume is still in the air. And for fuck's sake her bra is still hanging off the edge of counter. Stiles laughs too because he saw her bra on the way in and even his pathetic human nose can still smell her perfume. But Derek is also laughing because Malia's scent is on Stiles and it probably won't fade for another couple months.

Both of them sit there and stare at the ground. But not at each other. Never at each other. There's so much pain in Derek's eyes on a regular basis. There's so much guilt in Stile's that Scott can't look at him for longer then a minute.

So they sit. Shoulder to shoulder, never saying more then they are supposed to.

But then they go to a tarot card reader. Don't ask why. Neither of them know why. It was just a thing. They had heard about a teenage girl. Completely new to tarot ,but Deaton has seen her read once and even he had to admit that she had a talent no one else had. Deaton shouldn't be talking though, he spied on her as she read for her friends in the high school courtyard.

"I've seen you two before" she says as they walk up to her. She says nothing as she looks towards the wolf and the spark and pulls out her deck. The girl deals the cards silently. But the boys, no not boys, men, they have been through enough and are now men, notice that her shoulders sag and her eyes grow darker with each card that is placed down. Derek let's his eyes flash and notices that she has a certain aura to her. Not one that would indicate her as a kitsune or a wolf. But as something. The same aura that Stiles once held before Alison. But her aura grows dimmer and dimmer as she speaks to Stiles about his cards. Her eyes move to Derek and that's when he notices that they're tired and empty. Not really the eyes of a teenage girl.

Stiles is fucking scared. All his cards are upside down. And he's read enough to know that it means that shit will hit the fan. He briefly looks towards Derek and sees that he's looking at the girl. Neither of them know her name and it's too late to ask really.

"I wish I could re-draw your cards. But I know from experience that they don't like it when I try to sway what they say" the girl remarks dryly. She continues on to tell Stiles that his fight is not done. That he will continue to struggle and that one choice will define the rest of his life.

She looks towards Derek once more and asks if he really wants to see what the cards have to say.

Derek says no. He turns and begins to walk away when the girl says: "Hale, normally I would say not to be scared. But you don't have anything left to be afraid of do you?". She doesn't wait for a response and simply leaves.

Stiles and Derek walk back to the loft and say nothing. Once again Derek sits at the bottom of the stair case and Stiles sits next to him. Neither of them say a thing about Stile's reading or Derek's lack of.

Kira comes in hours later. Masacara running and her phone clutched in her hand. Derek moves to her and hugs her to him. Stiles stands and leaves. This is a them thing. He doesn't need to be there. He doesn't think Derek wants him there.

Then Stiles is sitting on his bed. He wish he wasn't sitting on his bed because it still smells like her. He texts Lydia and asks her to bring him new bed sheets and "No Lydia, for fuck's sake that does not mean that I need a interior designer!".

Lydia comes over and strips the bed her self. She refuses to put the new comforter and sheets on because she's "not your fucking maid Stiles". She turns on her heels and walks out. Stiles smiles because he knew she could never stand Malia. Now he knows why.

Everyone knows that it's dangerous to be alone with ones own thoughts. Stiles is especially wary of his own thoughts. But even then he isn't worried enough to block them out with music.

"What happened to Kira? " Stiles asks when he hears a thump from where he's laying on the ground. He isn't comfortable with laying on the bed yet.

"The same thing that happened to us"

No more words are needed. Words aren't wanted anyways. Stiles is kown for talking but when he's with Derek he's okay with silence. He's okay with his thoughts. Derek lays next to him and looks at him with his ridiculously pretty eyes. Stiles looks up at him and says "She has you"

Derek's eyes widen in surprise and he replies "No, you have me"

Stile smirks and turn his head back to the front. "Damn straight I do"

Derek smiles and looks at the ceiling.

Cause shit. They have each other.


End file.
